Mutant Angel
by Aaron Smiley
Summary: Thought I'd take a whack at poetry: One of the guys is out one winter night and has an eventful time, I guess. Can't really give this a summary. I swear I'll try to find a better title as soon as I think of one. T for safety.


Disclaimer: I do NOT NOT NOT NOT own the TMNT. Wait let me check that... yup, don't own 'em.

_Author's note: I've read alot of poetry in the past and though I'd take a whack at it. I wrote this randomly two nights ago, reviewed it last night (I actually shortened it if you can believe it!), and posted it tonight. Don't ask me why I wrote this. I just did. I swear I'm not a mental case. Just read it and I'd love to know what you think._

_Not really sure which turtle I'm writing about. First it was Leo, then it was Raph, then I decided to make it as vague as possible so you could all decide for yourselves and use those imaginations of yours. I'd be interested to hear your guys comments on the turtle you chose to imagine here. I also left the genders of the certain people in this stiry unknown, too. I dunno, I guess I kinda like it when people have to fill in their own blanks._

_(I am also aware that I capitalized the word 'You '. I did it on purpose as to signify 'you' as kindof the person's name. If that makes any sense...)_

_Okay! Now you can read! _

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I'm a monster, a mutant.  
Hiding from people on the street.  
I'm a misfit, an outcast.  
Someone You never wanna meet.

I'm really not a bad person inside,  
or turtle, as the case turns out to be.  
But no one would think to give me a chance  
if they ever caught a glimpse of me.

I watch You from the rooftops  
as others, like You, pass below.  
I watch You trudge home, tonight,  
through the new fallen snow.

Watching with envy,  
as You walk down the street.  
You are publicly accepted  
by all those that You meet.

But unlike You I have a family.  
Others to call my own.  
When You arrive home tonight;  
You'll spend it all alone.

I'm thankful for my luck.  
That my family's still in one piece.  
I don't think I could go on  
if their existence ceased.

I dart over buildings,  
watchfully protecting You from above.  
I know it must be torture  
to continue on without the ones You love.

I'm not sure how You're handling it.  
I mean, I can't just walk up and ask.  
But for some incomprehensible reason  
I've made watching You my task.

I'm not sure I really think You'll need protection  
from street thugs after wealth.  
I've got this premonition,  
You may need protection from yourself.

You enter into your building,  
thinking You're all alone.  
I flip onto your window sill  
and wait for You to enter the haven You call home.

I don't have to worry; I can sit here freely.  
You can't see me out here at night.  
Something to do with the dark outside  
and the glass reflecting the inside light.

Don't know why I've taken such and interest;  
there are so many others in this city just like You.  
Others with problems just as worse,  
and not all of them will make it through.

You set your bags on the counter  
and open your cupboards wide.  
Empting your groceries,  
while thoughts drift to those who've died.

I've picked up bits of information  
of the sorrows of your past.  
How one by one your family slipped away,  
and now You are the last.

Your father was a peaceful man,  
but he dutifully went off to war.  
Your mother cried for weeks on end,  
when that fateful letter arrived at your door.

Your brother went into a rage  
and ran away from home.  
You had to claim him three-weeks later,  
dead from a drive-by shooting, in a funeral home.

Your sister couldn't take the pain.  
She turned to bottles of alcohol.  
She hid it so well, that no one noticed  
until she carelessly drunk drove into a wall.

Your mother grew older and weary.  
You were all that she had left.  
You loved each other and tried to hold on  
until cancer claimed her in death.

I grow listless outside.  
My feet and hands freeze trying to grip sleet  
You're fine, I'm sure, I mean you've kept on this far.  
But I guess I'll just stay here until you go to sleep

What's this? You've stopped.  
A small bottle in your hand.  
I peer through the frosted window  
trying to glimpse at what it is or see the brand.

Stock still and motionless  
you continue to stare it down.  
As if it is wicked,  
but yet, a discovery, most profound.

Then suddenly You look up  
and glance about with care.  
As if You have a feeling  
that someone else is there.

But I know You do not see me  
as you walk to the kitchen sink.  
At three stories up, You won't check outside,  
as You ready a tap water drink.

You open the bottle;  
pills spill into your hand.  
as You begin to grind them  
into a powdery sand.

I sit outside, shivering and confused.  
Trying to figure your actions out.  
I know something isn't right,  
I can see that without a doubt.

I mean, there's way too many pills.  
I don't care how big a headache.  
And then it finally hits me.  
I see the deliberate error you're about to make.

I see You pour the powder in your water.  
It looks milky white in your glass.  
I'm not sure what to do  
But I better do it fast.

I'm running out of options  
as You raise the glass to your lips.  
I'm scrambling my brain for a plan  
to keep You from taking a deadly sip.

I knock on the window.  
Drawing your attention from the drink.  
It's not exactly my first choice of action,  
but I didn't have much time to think.

You put the untouched drink down on the table,  
and slowly advance towards me, crouching on the sill.  
If You don't like visits from little green men,  
Well, You're just going to have to deal.

It feels like an hour passes while You cross the room  
You're walking at a slow, lingering rate.  
You nearly turn back once, then stop  
a few feet away from the window and hesitate.

Suddenly the phone begins to ring.  
Once then twice. By the third You've turned.  
My rapping on the window  
no longer your first concern.

When You hear who's on the other side  
You begin to cry.  
You spill your guts to whoever it is.  
And, to my surprise, tell them You want to die.

Not so much as two minutes later.  
A car comes screeching down the road.  
It comes to a halt down on the curb.  
A figure jumps out and rushes into your home.

You both embrace.  
And You begin to weep  
Somehow through the sobbing  
You find a way to speak.

You explain the whole story  
to your comforting friend,  
who hugs You and holds You  
as You explain tonight could have been the end.

And at the end of the story  
when You're about to drink  
You say You heard a knock on the window  
'From an angel', you think.

'After all,' You say drying your eyes.  
'If it had not been for that one little sound  
I am certain that at this moment,  
I would not be around.'

You're friend holds you closer  
and whispers a prayer.  
and thanks God for sending angel  
to be with You there.

I smile wryly from outside  
as your friend hugs you tighter.  
An angel? Nice try. If I ever met one,  
I'd, more than likely, frighten her.

You sure got a sense of humor, God,  
if you're watching from up there.  
I'm a mutant, a monster;  
that doesn't change, so why care?

But an angel? me?  
I'm classified as humanity's pollutant.  
No way. Were You really dead serious?  
I'm an unwanted, rejected green mutant.

Nearing the manhole  
that will lead me home.  
I look up at the sky  
where the stars are free to roam.

I feel a body-less presence  
in the cool night air.  
I know it sounds creepy,  
but swear something was there.

My breath escapes my lips,  
forming a small cloud of white.  
Something or someone is out there  
and is with me tonight.

The feeling stays with me,  
even when I slink down into the sewer,  
But no one follows me.  
There are no signs of, even a friendly, intruder.

It's some kind of enigma.  
Though, it doesn't feel like a threat.  
This is definitely one night  
I'll never forget.


End file.
